Helping a Stressed Pineapple
by StarPurpleandBlue
Summary: Marco overworking himself with paperwork isn't something new on the Moby Dick. His friends, though, decide to take action and try to make him feel better. However, it wouldn't be so simple and confusion follows them at every attempt. Even so, they were determined to find a way to help their stressed friend. There simply had to be a way they'd be able to accomplish it!


_**A/N:**_ Hi~! How's everyone doing? Here I am with a new one-shot! And this one isn't sad! Whoop whoop! It's my first time writing the Whitebeard Pirates as pirates instead of characters of an AU, so I hope they're good enough :P This is a pretty lighthearted story, perhaps even somewhat silly, but it was fun to write ^.^

Anyway, this one is dedicated to _LuffyGirl_! I hope you like it! And thanks for also helping me, hehe ^.^"

I guess that's all. I hope you all enjoy it! And if you can, please leave a review telling me what you thought!

This chapter has been betaread by _Aerle! _

* * *

Thatch was impatient. With crossed arms and the fingers of one hand drumming on the other arm, he turned his gaze from one side to the other of the deck of Moby Dick; he was sure that Ace had already eaten breakfast that morning, which meant he should have been there by now. Finding no sign of his friend, he sighed and decided to start searching rather than stay waiting for him to appear.

Walking around the deck, he greeted the brothers and sisters who passed by him with sleepy faces, probably heading to the mess hall to eat breakfast. Not long after, he finally found the person he had been looking for, leaning over the railing on the other side of the ship looking out to the sea.

"Ace!" Thatch exclaimed while quickly walking in the direction of the young man with freckles. "There you are! You have no idea how long I've been wai- Are you asleep?"

And indeed, Ace was sleeping while leaning with one elbow on the railing and his head resting on his hand, mouth slightly open and snoring lightly.

"Really? But the day has just begun!" The man with the pompadour shook his head before approaching closer and deciding to wake up his comrade. With a smirk, he pulled the arm that was supporting Ace's head to the side, watching with amusement the dark-haired boy's head fall and hit the railing.

"Ouch!" Ace woke up with a start and pulled away while massaging his nose lightly. "That hurt! What was the big idea, Thatch?"

"I needed to wake you up somehow." The other shrugged.

"I'm sure there are better ways to do that which don't involve me hitting my face," Ace muttered glaring at Thatch.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't be as fun," The cook said before quickly adding. "Anyway, I woke you up because I need your help with something."

"...Is it a prank?"

"No! I can need the help of my dear brother for something that isn't a prank!"

He only received a suspicious look and silence coming from Ace.

"...Okay, okay, I see your point. But! This time that's not what I want to do!"

"Okay..." Ace muttered hesitantly before returning to near Thatch and leaning on the railing. "So, what you need my help with?"

With a triumphant smile, Thatch took Ace's shoulders and made him turn to one direction. "Look there and tell me what's wrong with the scene."

Doing as his comrade asked, Ace looked and frowned when he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Several of his brothers and sisters were on deck, starting to fulfill their duties for that day; others were still walking around with sleepy expressions; it seemed that Vista and Blenheim were going to spar; Pops was sitting on his chair with some nurses going around him; Marco was...

Ace blinked his eyes repeatedly before rubbing them; no, he wasn't able to find the blond. Turning his head to look around the deck, he sought some sign of his friend's pineapple shaped head. After failing to find him no matter which direction he looked, Ace turned to Thatch with a furrowed brow. Normally at this time of the day, Marco would be on deck talking with their father or supervising all of their siblings to make sure everything was okay.

"Could he still be sleeping...?" Ace's voice clearly showed his disbelief at what he was saying.

Thatch shook his head. "Even when he's very tired, he always wakes up on time. That's the problem. I bet he's still in his room trying to finish all that paperwork."

Ace grimaced; Thatch was right, that was probably what Marco was doing. A few days ago, they had had a fight with one of the other Yonkos, which brought more paperwork to Marco, in addition to the large amount he already had since two of the islands under the protection of Whitebeard had had some problems.

"So, why do you need my help?" Ace asked curious. He knew Marco well enough to know he would be trying to spend as much time as possible in his room to finish the paperwork, forgetting to go eat at the right times and, probably, sleep enough.

"I want to find a way to make him relax a bit. Doing this is never good for anyone, even for the pineapple head! My problem is, well..." Thatch rubbed his neck and laughed nervously. "The first thing I tried resulted in him throwing me out of his room. Literally."

Ace raised an eyebrow. "And what did you do?"

"Well, I took a girl to him! I still don't understand why he got so angry!" Thatch huffed.

"...We're at the middle of the sea right now, Thatch. Which girl did you take to him?"

"A girl pineapple, of course! Since he has a pineapple head, they're a perfect match!"

"A what?" Ace blinked a few times confused; had he heard him right?

"A girl pineapple," Thatch repeated slowly. "It's easy to get one. You only have to find a pineapple, decorate it a little bit and voila! You get your girl pineapple!" He finished with a big smile, proud of his idea.

"You decorated a pineapple so it'd look like a girl and gave it to Marco? And he threw you out of his bedroom angrily?"

"Basically, yes."

There was a moment of silence before Ace start laughing, having to hold on the railing to keep himself from falling to the ground.

"Hey, that's not funny!" Thatch crossed his arms with a pout. "Bet you can't think of anything better to do!"

Ace opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by another voice:

"Tell me you two aren't planning another prank."

This made both Ace and Thatch turn to the direction it had come from, resulting in them finding Izo with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow; it was obvious that if the answer was the opposite of what the man wearing a kimono wanted, they'd regret it.

"Why does everyone always think that?" Thatch threw his arms up dramatically.

"Maybe because most of the times you two are together, that's the result." Izo rolled his eyes and ignored the indignant shouts of "Hey!" from the other two commanders. "If that's not the case, then what's the problem?"

Not long after, the long dark haired man found himself nodding in understanding. "I see..."

"So, does any of you have any idea?" Thatch asked with a weary sigh; who knew that doing a good deed for a brother would give him so much work.

"Actually, I think I have one." Izo commented with a smile forming on his face. Soon afterwards, he turned around and walked away without another word, leaving the other two there lost.

"I think he doesn't want our help..."

"You think?" Ace snorted before a smile appeared on his face. "Hey, I also have an idea! Come on! To the kitchen!" And with that he began to run without waiting Thatch – who, a little later, started going after him yelling for Ace to wait.

* * *

Putting the paper he had just finished on top of the stack to his left, Marco sighed. Stretching and feeling that his muscles were stiff, the blond stood up and walked over to the small open window in his room.

As soon as the sea breeze and the sun's rays hit his face, he felt the fatigue of having spent so much time awake making itself known. Covering a yawn with a hand, Marco looked at the position of the sun in the sky; breakfast would still be served for a while, which meant that he probably could finish some more papers before heading to the mess hall to get something to eat.

He went slowly to his chair and sat down, lazily looking at the pile of paperwork he had yet to finish. Shaking his head a little, he picked up another paper and started his work again.

It wasn't unusual for him to find himself surrounded by paperwork to fill out, but it was rare to find that much at once. The other commanders had also received some, but he had a bigger load seeing as he was the first division commander and, consequently, the first mate.

Therefore, in a way to end it all as quickly as possible, he had decided to stay in his room and spend as much time as possible working on those papers. He had done so before and, while it had left him completely tired afterwards, it had worked.

He soon found himself back in his previous pace, blue eyes flicking through the words written before him. The up side, at least, was that there wasn't all that much more for him to finish...

_Knock, knock._

The small noise made Marco lift his gaze to the door with a frown. Who would be there at that hour? He only hoped it wasn't Thatch with another one of his jokes like the "girl pineapple" he had brought with him last time.

"It's open, yoi," he said before putting the pen he had been using on the table and turning to see who was going to appear.

"Good morning!" the lively response came from Ace, who quickly entered his bedroom holding a tray.

Marco greeted his friend back before fixing his eyes on what the freckled man had brought with him. "What's that?"

"Your breakfast!" Ace answered with a big smile, clearly seeming to be pleased with himself.

Raising an eyebrow, Marco looked suspiciously at the food. It wasn't as if he didn't trust the other commander, but the fact that he had brought him breakfast – something very unusual for Ace – made him wary; perhaps he had an ulterior motive?

"Oh, come on, I only made you food! Well, technically I only made the tea while Thatch prepared the food," Ace commented after taking Marco's silence as a sign that the blond wasn't going to get near the food. "It's not so weird! Well, maybe a little, but still! Food's good, it always makes people feel better!"

Seeing the sincerity on his friend's expression, Marco nodded. "Alright, yoi. Thank you, Ace."

"You're welcome!" Ace replied cheerfully.

Marco took the tray and put it on his bed, seeing that his table was fully occupied at the time. He sat beside it and, as Ace was still there, decided to try something to satisfy the other.

Picking up the cup filled with what looked like tea, he took a sip and froze; his other hand immediately stopped and dropped the piece of bread it had just picked up. Quickly placing the cup back on the tray, he ran to the bathroom that was connected to his room and spat out the liquid in his mouth.

"What happened?!" Marco heard Ace ask confused from the bathroom door.

"Ace..." He muttered after washing his mouth as better as he could with only water.

"Yeah?"

"What did you put in this tea?"

"Things that are commonly used to make tea," Ace replied looking at him as if he were stupid.

"And in your list of _'things that are commonly used to make tea'_ you remembered to include _sugar_, right?" Marco slowly turned to the other, irritation beginning to take the place of the gratitude he had felt.

"Of course! I may be bad at cooking things, but I know this much!" Ace nodded firmly, not realizing where the blond was getting at.

Marco sighed deeply trying to calm himself down. "Right. Well, you didn't use sugar. You used _pepper_."

Ace's mouth fell open in surprise. "Seriously?!"

The blond began massaging his temple. "Yes, seriously."

"That pot with a black thing in it wasn't sugar, after all." Ace muttered to himself, causing Marco's eye to twitch. Had he really heard Ace say that after he couldn't find sugar he simply decided to use what was in another pot? Without even _knowing_ what was in there? Before he could say something, the dark-haired man turned an apologetic look to him. "My bad, Marco. I'll go back to the kitchen and bring you some actual tea this time!" the freckled man announced and was ready to start running when he was stopped by Marco's hand on his shoulder.

"There's no need, yoi. You've done _enough_, thank you. Tell Thatch I said thanks too." While he said this, he pushed Ace in the direction of the door of his room. "Now, I need to finish this paperwork, so I'll see you at another time, okay? Okay."

And with that, he closed the door and found himself alone again in his bedroom with a stack of paperwork and, now, also with the company of a tray with food and tea with pepper. Sighing, the blond went to his chair, deciding to wait a bit before trying to eat anything.

Soon after, he was able to return to his previous pace, stopping only occasionally to chew some food he absentmindedly picked up from the tray. More time passed and, analyzing what he still had to finish, Marco concluded that he would probably finish everything at the end of the next day if he kept like this.

_Knock, knock._

Marco sighed; that was, of course, if he wasn't interrupted every half hour.

"I'm coming in!" a voice warned before Izo entered the room with a large and content smile.

"What do you want?" the blond questioned warily. First, it had been Thatch, then Ace and now Izo appeared with that smile; it was clear to him that something was happening.

"I want you to come with me to the deck," the long dark-haired man declared and, without waiting for an answer, pulled Marco by his arm towards the door.

"Wait, what?" Marco asked confused as he found himself in front of the stairs that lead to the deck. "Izo, I still have a lot of paperwork to finish, yoi!"

"It can wait. Now you're going to meditate with me!" The other commander's response came right before the two came to a stop in a corner of the deck. Looking around, Marco realized he strangely enough couldn't see too many of his comrades; that was probably a consequence of Izo wanting to meditate for some reason.

"Meditate, yoi?" Marco raised an eyebrow.

"Of course! It's not bad to do that sometimes, even if you have company. You'll like it, you'll see,." Izo said while he sat down. He looked up at Marco before patting the place beside him, indicating that he wanted Marco to sit as well.

With a sigh, the blond did as he was asked. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad and, possibly, it'd be good for him. He was feeling a bit stressed, after all.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he focused on the soothing sound of the sea and the mild heat that the sun's rays brought to his skin. The sounds that their brothers and sisters that were on deck created was low, bringing the familiarity of the Moby Dick with a tremendous calm to him. Yes, maybe this would actually help...

The loud noise of something made of metal hitting the wood floor resounded, quickly being followed by the sound of many people arguing. Opening his eyes with a resigned sigh, Marco turned his head to the direction it all came from.

_Of course._ He sighed again. The scene he saw hadn't surprised him at all; there was Curiel trying to take off a paint can that was stuck on his head, Haruta and Ace arguing along with other crew members that were holding different musical instruments, Rakuyo completely soaked in yellow paint and Thatch trying to disentangle himself from a big white piece of cloth.

"I'll be right back, Marco," the blond heard Izo comment. He turned just in time to see the other commander stand up with a plasticized polite smile on his face.

Marco only nodded, knowing very well that that expression meant Izo was angry and about to unleash his fury on someone else. Deciding he could let the other deal with the problem the others had created, he also got up and started going back to his room. It'd be useless to try to relax there again, so he'd better go back to finishing the paperwork. He only hoped this time he wouldn't be interrupted.

* * *

"What did you _think_ you were doing?" Izo asked with crossed arms while glaring at the two commanders in front of him. After he had scolded all of them, Curiel – already free from the paint can – had decided to help the other crewmembers put the musical instruments back to where they had been before, Rakuyo had gone take a shower and Haruta mumbled some excuse and disappeared somewhere. That meant there was only Ace and Thatch still in front of a completely unamused Izo.

"I just wanted to write something on that cloth!" Thatch pouted while playing with the tip of his green stained shirt. "It wasn't my intention to create that mess."

"I thought a bit of music would be good for Marco," Ace added rubbing the back of his neck.

Sighing, Izo placed a hand on his waist. "All right, what's done is done. My plan also didn't work because of that and I'm sure it won't be so easy to bring Marco back to deck."

"So, what do we do now?" Thatch crossed his arms with a frown.

"What's the matter, my sons?" the warm voice of Whitebeard said coming from behind them. They turned and saw the figure of their father looking at them curiously.

"Oyaji! We're trying to find a way to make Marco relax a bit," Ace explained while frowning.

"And so far nothing has worked." Thatch sighed while scratching his head.

"I see. Well, it's a good idea to do that. Marco really should know when to stop so he wouldn't overwork himself with paperwork," Whitebeard nodded. "If you need my help, just let me know."

"Actually, I think we're going to need it, oyaji." Izo said with a hand on his chin and a thoughtful expression. "I just had another idea." He looked at the three that were with him and smiled. "And this one is flawless."

* * *

When Marco heard a knock at his door, once again, on that same day, he almost tore his hair out. Instead, he decided to hit his head on the table a few times before getting up and going to see who it was that time.

"Thatch," he said narrowing his eyes even more than they already were when he saw the man with a pompadour.

"Oyaji wants to see you. He's in his room," the other said with both hands up so Marco would know he wasn't going to do anything.

"Now, yoi?" Marco was starting to think that he most probably wasn't going to finish that paperwork at the time he had expected.

Thatch nodded with a smile. "He said it was important."

"Right." Marco looked suspicious at his friend for a moment before sighing. "Thanks." He added before closing his door and going in the direction their father's bedroom was. He really didn't have much luck, if the many times he had been interrupted that day were any indication.

Getting there quickly, Marco knocked on the door before being told to enter. He sat on the bed when he was motioned to do so, seeing as Whitebeard was sitting on a chair, and began listening intently as his father told him about a mission he wanted Marco to fulfil later on. Sometime during the middle of the conversation, he offered Marco a cup of tea - which was strangely there as Whitebeard was drinking sake as usual - and the blond accepted it gratefully without much thought, already feeling his tiredness appear back again and needing something to wake himself up.

Marco kept nodding while storing the information he was given in his brain, trying to concentrate and not think about the pile of paper that would still be waiting him when he returned to his room. However, the longer he spent there, the more tired he began to feel.

Shaking his head to try to wake himself up a bit, Marco found himself failing and succumbing to sleep while listening to his father say it was alright for him to rest.

* * *

When the blond opened his eyes again, he was feeling much better and refreshed than before. Looking around the darkened room he recognized as his father's, he realized he must have fallen asleep. Suddenly remembering he still had paperwork waiting for him and realizing that it was already night, he got up quickly.

Leaving the room and running across the deck, barely greeting those who passed by him, the blond got to his room in record time. Opening the door, his eyes fixed themselves on the pile of papers. He sighed already feeling the energy that had made him run until there dissipating.

He sat on his chair, ready to continue his work, when something unusual caught his eye. "What, yoi?" He murmured to himself while bringing a sheet of paper close to his face. Staring at it for a while, he realized it had been filled out. Looking at some other papers that were on the pile to his right – the one with the supposedly not completed ones – he saw they were all finished.

He stayed there stunned for a while until he noticed a small note in the corner of his desk. Grabbing it, he saw it had a message written on it. When he recognized the handwriting, he frowned. He now could remember that when he had left his room before, Thatch hadn't followed him. What did that and his finished paperwork have to do with each other, though?

Turning curious eyes back to the note, he decided to read it.

_Yo~, pineapple head!_

_So, we noticed that you were overworking yourself with paperwork and decided to try to make you relax! That didn't work very well in the first attempts, but I finally – all right, all right. It was Izo's idea – to divide what was left of it between the other commanders!_

_It took us a while, but with oyaji's help and a good tea - – this time I made sure that Ace didn't put pepper in it! - – to make you relax and sleep, everything worked fine! Anyway, now you have time to rest and have fun! So use your time well!_

_From your very dear friend, Thatch._

_PS: Tomorrow we're docking on a new island, so we're going to explore it even if I have to drag you! You have no excuses not to go!_

Marco shook his head while a smile formed on his face. Now that it had been said, it was obvious what his friends had been trying to do the whole morning. Usually, he'd only say that wasn't necessary, but he'd have to admit he appreciated the help.

Feeling his stomach protest, he realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Placing the note back on his desk, the blond decided to head to the mess hall and see if dinner had already been served. He'd also make sure to thank the ones involved as soon as he saw them.

Realizing that, as he now had "free time" – he still had his commander's duties to fulfill –, he'd be pestered a lot by his siblings, he shook his head fondness. It wasn't like he'd ever be able to escape that as that _was_ life on the Moby Dick, after all.


End file.
